Chapter 17
17
I pull up to the house, put my car in park, and stare out the window.
I haven’t been here in a long time. In fact, it’s been so long I can’t remember the last time I came by for a visit. Maybe when they first moved to Jersey. When my sister and Ritu got this house that’s only a few streets away from my parents’. It’s definitely been years since I visited, but I didn’t know where else to go.
I need to talk to someone. I need to share all the secrets that have been piling up. I want to share them. I can’t change the mistakes I made in the past, but I can make different choices going forward.
I can choose to tell my family about Nikhil. About everything.
I’d first thought about calling Ritu, but she’s on a graduation trip backpacking through Europe with her friends for the summer. And it hadn’t felt right to bombard her with the details of her aunt’s messy life. I’d thought about confessing everything to my parents, but the idea had sent me careening down an anxiety spiral. That seemed like too much too fast. I needed a baby step, and confiding in my sister felt like it might be just right. Something in between the comfort that talking to Ritu would have been and the terror of talking to my parents.
But my sister and I have never really had a heart-to-heart like this. I’ve never really come to her for advice. We’ve never had that kind of relationship. That distance has always been a little hurtful, but maybe one of us needs to make the first move. Besides, it’s not like I have a lot of other options.
I knock on the door, and smile weakly when my sister answers.
“Hi, Akka.”
“Meena?” She blinks, tying the belt of her night-robe around her. “What are you doing here? What happened? Are you all right?”
The care in her voice, the genuine concern that she has for me sends pinpricks to the corners of my eyes. “No,” I say hoarsely. “I don’t think I am.”
She lets me in, and when we sit on the couch, the words tumble out of me.
“I’m married. And I…I’m in love with him.”
“With Shake?”
“No.”
“Oh, thank god.”
My head rears back in surprise, and my sister grins. “What? No matter what Mom and Dad have been pushing, it’s always been clear the two of you weren’t in love. Not really.”
“Yeah,” I say. I rub my arm absently. “I’m just more surprised that you noticed that about us. Or that you’d care either way.”
Her smile falls a bit. “Of course I’d care, Meena. And I’m glad you didn’t give in to the pressure Mom and Dad have been putting on you and…Wait.” Her eyes grow round. “Did you just say you were married?”
“Yeah.” I let out a half laugh, half sigh. “Maybe we should start there.”
“Yeah, we should.” A loud whistle sounds from the kitchen, and she jumps up from the couch. “I put the kettle on earlier. I was going to make some tea, but it sounds like we need something stronger than that.” She ducks out of the living room, returning minutes later with a pair of mugs and a bottle of amber liquid.
“I haven’t unloaded the dishwasher,” she says, setting the mugs on the coffee table. “So, these will have to do.” She pours some cheap cinnamon-flavored whiskey in each of them and passes one to me before settling into the cushions.
“Why do you even have this?” I ask, pointing at the bottle. My sister’s taste runs more toward a glass of red wine on a Friday night. Maybe a margarita if she’s feeling wild. Fireball is completely out of the norm for her.
She shakes her head. “College leftovers. You don’t want to know all the things we found when we cleaned out Ritu’s dorm. Her roommates were a mess. We threw out most of their stuff, but this one was still sealed, so I figured why waste it?”
“Weird to think that she’s old enough to drink now.”
My sister rolls her eyes. “Tell me about it.”
I take a sip, the heat burning in a surprisingly comforting way as it slides down my throat. The warmth gathers in my belly, reducing some of my fears. Still, when I open my mouth, nothing comes out.
I don’t know how to talk about Nikhil. Except for Shake, I’ve never told anyone about him. And I’ve never really gone into all the details of it before. I’ve never told anyone about everything that happened in Vegas, about how it felt to fail the bar, about all the things that drove Nikhil and me apart.
My sister leans toward me, placing a hand on my arm, squeezing gently.
“Start at the beginning,” she tells me. “Or wherever you want to start. It doesn’t matter. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.”
The tightness in my chest loosens a tiny degree. I take a deep breath, and begin.
—
“So, you and Nikhil ended up signing the divorce papers?” my sister asks, about an hour or two later.
I nod. “Yeah, but I haven’t dropped them off yet, so technically we’re still married.”
The room’s quiet for a moment, then my sister exhales loudly. “God, Meena. I’m so sorry.”
I startle. “Sorry? No, Akka, you don’t have anything to be sorry about. I’m the one who should be apologizing to you . And Mom and Dad and Ritu…I kept all of this a secret from you and—”
“No. I’m just so sorry that you felt like you had to. I mean, I understand not telling Mom and Dad about everything. Believe me. But I’m so sorry you’ve been dealing with all of this on your own. I’m so sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t tell me any of this. I know that there’s this distance between us and that it’s…A lot of it’s my fault.” She looks down at the floor for a second, before returning her gaze to me.
“We never really got a chance to know each other,” she says. “You were still so little when I went off to college, and then I got pregnant with Ritu, and honestly everything in those early years is still such a blur. I was just trying to get through the day and make sure Ritu was all right. I had no idea what I was doing. But…I know I kept my distance from you. Even after I managed to get everything together, I still…I don’t know. Mom and Dad never told me this explicitly, but I always felt like they worried about me being a bad influence on you or something. And at a certain point, it just seemed like I was too late, you know? You and Ritu had this incredible bond. You still do. And I know that’s not something I’m a part of. And that’s fine. I get it. I’m so happy she has you. She couldn’t ask for a better aunt. But because of that, I thought you didn’t need that from me. That you had the sister you should have always had, the sister you deserved, in Ritu. But if I’d known…if I’d known that you were going through all of this by yourself, I would have been there for you, Meena. I would have.”
My throat grows tight with emotion.
“But I’m here now,” she continues. “For whatever you need. And Ritu will be too.”
“Thanks, Akka,” I say, my mind still reeling. I hadn’t expected her to respond this way. I don’t know what I’d expected, but it wasn’t this.
My sister’s never been unkind toward me, but she’s always been aloof. Not that I’m surprised that she’s capable of being caring and compassionate and present. I’ve seen her be that way with Ritu. She’s an incredible mom. She’s never been that way with me.
“I appreciate you saying that,” I tell her. “But I guess the problem is…I don’t know what I need. I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do now. I started the day with Shake and a plan for the future, and now all of that is gone. It was my choice, and I don’t regret it, but I don’t have a backup plan in place. I don’t know what to do next. I’m just…stuck.”
My sister sighs. “I know that feeling. And I know how terrifying it is. I’m forty-two years old, and for the first time in my life, I don’t know what I’m going to do next. Raising Ritu was the best decision I ever made. I wouldn’t go back, I wouldn’t trade it for anything, but now that she’s graduated, I feel a little lost. Like my life is starting over. And…I’m scared.”
“Of what?”
“Of messing up again. Of letting them down again.” She swallows. “Did you know I’ve been going to therapy? It’s been years now, ever since Ritu started middle school. She’d been having a hard time then, so I looked into it for her sake, but I quickly realized I need it too.” She watches me for a moment. “Have you ever felt like Mom and Dad’s love is conditional?”
Surprise bolts through me. “I…I don’t know how to answer that.” I’m not sure if I’ve ever thought about it like that before, but something about that word— conditional —it strikes a chord deep within me.
Akka lifts a hand. “I’m not saying that it’s true. I’m not saying that their love is actually conditional. I’m just saying that sometimes I feel like that. You know, I watched the way they were with you. How happy they were at your graduations, when you got your first job, when you achieved all these wonderful things. They weren’t like that with me when I got my first raise or my first promotion. I mean, I know it’s not the same thing, but their different responses…I couldn’t help but feel like they loved you more because you did all of these things that I couldn’t do. I didn’t handle it well, but I was able to work through a lot of it in therapy. I realized how proud I am of myself, of the things I accomplished.”
“As you should be, Akka. Everything you’ve done, for Ritu, for yourself, it’s incredible. The way you handled everything on your own, I would never have been able to do that. I would never have been able to do what you did. I look up to you. I always have.”
She smiles softly. “Thank you. It’s just…until this moment, I didn’t realize you might have felt the same way. That you may have been so set on achieving and doing all of these things because you were scared of that love going away. And then once you failed for the first time, I don’t know how you felt, but I can imagine it was hard. That you might have been scared not just of what they’d say, but how they might feel toward you.”
It had been hard. That failure had shattered me. It had made me question everything. I’d hidden from my parents, from everyone, because I think deep down, my sister is right. I had been scared of losing their love.
And I think I’d hidden myself from Nikhil for the same reason. I’d been so scared of him seeing past the put-together, confident, high-achieving front I showed the world. With every exposed fracture, every time I let him in, I’d been terrified that his love would vanish. And as he’d retreated, revealing less and less of himself to me, I’d thought that was what was happening. When he didn’t move with me, I’d been sure it was because he decided I wasn’t worth it.
But that’s not true. He told me that wasn’t true.
“I haven’t thought about it in those terms before,” I tell my sister. “But I think…it’s possible. That I was scared of exactly that. I think…I might still be. Not just with them, but with Nikhil too.”
My sister grabs my hand, squeezing it lightly.
“Can I speak plainly?” she asks, and I nod.
“The way I see it, you’ve dropped the idea of being with Shake. You’re in love with a guy who sounds pretty great. And—what a stroke of luck—you happen to already be married to him. But instead of having some joyful reunion down in Texas, you’re here, so…what is it exactly that you’re scared of? Why aren’t you rushing to see him?”
Despite myself, I almost grin. This is the side of my sister I’m much more familiar with. The cut-and-dried, no-nonsense tone. Quick and direct. Always getting straight to the point. Actually…she sounds a lot like me.
“It’s not that simple,” I say.
“I know. But tell me why. Why isn’t it that simple?”
“Because I don’t know what he’s thinking. I don’t know how he feels. I mean, he signed the papers, Akka. And he made it sound like he thought that was best. That we both needed a clean break and a chance to start over and—”
“But isn’t that what you told him? Isn’t that what you told him you wanted?”
“Yeah, but—”
“So, it sounds like he listened to you. My question is, have you been listening to him?”
Shame floods through me in a flash. My sister’s words remind me too much of what Nikhil once told me. That I was a steamroller. That I rushed and pushed my wants and desires without consideringhis.
He’d wanted me to stay. He’d wanted me to be with him. He’d asked me to. And I’d told him that I wanted to come back here to run for office, that I wanted to do it with Shake, so he’d given me that instead.
What am I scared of? Really, the question should be what am I more scared of? Because I’m scared that I just blew up my chance at a political future. I’m scared that by not going through with my plans with Shake I’ve left my dream career in the dust. But I’m even more scared of losing Nikhil for good.
Part of me wants to run to Houston. To show up at Nikhil’s doorstep and tell him that I love him, but I want to do more than just tell him. I want to show him that I’ve been listening. That I’ve been listening to what he wants, that I care about what he wants. I want to support him and his dreams, the way he always supported mine.
I quickly pull my phone out of my purse and enter a website I’ve visited numerous times over the past two weeks. I only have to type the z for the exact link to populate. I wait, but the page loads at a glacial pace.
“What’s your Wi-Fi?” I ask my sister. She rattles it off, along with a complicated password, and I enter it in, hoping it’ll speed things up.
“What are you doing?” she asks, leaning over my shoulder to peek at the screen.
“Nikhil bought this place. An inn. But it took a hit during the storm, and he’s listed it for sale, but he basically listed it for nothing. I’m going to put in an offer. Just so if he changes his mind, he can have it back. And if he really doesn’t want it anymore, I’ll sell it. I’ll help him find a new place. A better property. But the way he talked about this one…I don’t want him to regret giving it up.”
The page finally loads, but my stomach sinks as I read the words under the address.
Off Market .
No. No, no, no. I knew someone would snap it up. At that price and with that location, I’d expected it to happen, but I thought I might have been fast enough. I thought I might have had a shot.
I search, trying to find out who bought the place, but nothing comes up. Whoever grabbed it must have wanted to keep it private. I groan.
“Someone bought it,” I tell my sister. My head hits the back of the couch, my body slumping with defeat.
“Who?”
“It doesn’t say.”
We sit in silence for a bit, my big imagined grand gesture moment crumbling into nothing. When we were together Nikhil rarely talked about his dreams. He was vague those areas of his life. He didn’t talk about school or work or his own ideas for the future, but now he has. He didn’t have to, but he showed me the inn. He laid his dreams for the future bare. He was vulnerable in a way that I’d never seen from him, and for the first time that I can remember, he asked me for help. And I’d promised him that I would give it. I’d promised to help with securing funding for the repairs. I can’t break that promise now.
Nikhil was there for me, through my lowest and darkest moments. When I failed the bar, he didn’t let me give up on my dreams. He encouraged me, supported me, and listened to me. He held me while I was broken so I could put myself back together. How can I not do the same for him?
I sit up straight, opening a new window on my phone. “I’m going to Houston,” I tell my sister.
“What?”
I check for flights, quickly making plans. “I’m going to go down there. I’m going to find out who bought the place and I’m going to get it back.”
My sister’s eyes light with surprise. “But how…how are you going to do that?”
“I’ll check the property records. I’ll ask around. I’ll show up at the site and see who’s working on it. I don’t know, but I’ll figure it out.” I smile, feeling hopeful for the first time in weeks. This might be the worst, least thought-out plan I’ve ever had, but I’ve never felt so confident. So sure that things will turn out. I don’t know how yet, but something about this feels right.
My sister smiles in return. “I’m sure you won’t need it, but I’m wishing you all the luck,” she says, clinking her mug against mine.
My flight doesn’t leave until early morning, so we stay up late talking, mending the rift between us piece by piece. I wish we’d done this years ago. Now I know that my sister would have understood what I was going through back then. She had felt those same fears and worries; she still feels this burden of being a disappointment to our parents. But like she tells me, that disappointment isn’t the end of the world.
“My life doesn’t look the way they thought it should,” she says. “It doesn’t look like yours, but I think it worked the way it was supposed to. I’m not saying Mom and Dad were wrong for wanting our lives to be set and sure and easier than theirs, for prizing stability. I can’t blame them for that. But from that good desire came…well, this. All this stress and pressure you felt. I had no idea you were going through all of that.”
“Yeah, well, I tried to hide it.”
“And you succeeded.” Her eyes soften. “Are you…With your career and job, are you happy? Is this something you really wanted or did Mom and Dad make you feel like you had to? Because you don’t, Meena. You don’t have to do any of it if you don’t want to. You deserve to do something that brings you joy.”
I’m quiet for a moment. I’m not sure whether I’ve really thought about my career this way. About my dreams and aspirations. Do I really want any of this, or have I just been trying to live up to some unreachable expectation? Have I just been trying not to let my parents down? To not lose their love?
“I don’t know,” I say. “Part of this I chose. I chose law school. Not medical school like they originally wanted. Like they wanted for you. I picked D.C. I picked being involved in politics. I always wanted to help people, and I still want that. But this…this pressure, this drive, this intensity. I don’t know if that was me. I don’t know if I would have always been like that. And I’d be lying if I said my desire to run for office is just about wanting to help people.” I think back to what Elizabeth had said, about the reasons why people run for office. “I think…part of what I like about it is the prestige. The recognition that comes with it. The idea that Mom and Dad would be able to see me. That they’d see I was doing something important. Something that mattered. Something that they could be proud of. If I take that part away…I think I’d still want it, but I don’t know. I’m not sure.”
I go to sleep that night still thinking about it, unsure how I feel. Walking away from Shake had been the right choice. I’m sure of that. But the idea of giving up on a political future entirely still stings. And I’m not sure if that’s because I actually want it as much as I’ve always thought, because I think it would make me happy, because it would allow me to really make a difference, or if it’s rooted in something else. Something deeply ingrained in me. Pride or fear or this pressure I’ve been operating under for so long.
In the morning, my sister wraps me in a big hug before I leave.
“Whenever you get back, whenever you get everything sorted, you just let me know, okay?” she says. “And whenever you’re ready to tell Mom and Dad, I’ll support you. And I know Ritu will too.” She pauses. “Maybe we can both take a week off sometime and go visit her during her trip? In France or Italy or wherever she happens to be at the moment? Might be nice to spend some time together, just us girls?”
“Yeah,” I say, warmth filling me at the thought. “I’d like that.” I give her a final hug before heading to the airport.
As wonderful as jetting off to Europe sounds, those plans will have to wait. Right now, I’m going home. To Houston. And somehow, I’m going to make all of this work.